The Blade's Reflection

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" For mercy lives where weapons end,

And peace begins when hearts unbend."


He lifted steel with borrowed pride,
Mistaking rage for strength inside.
The sword shone bright-a tempting lie,
Promising power to the battle cry.

By cries of faith and fractured land,
New “lions” roar at their command.
Yet what they trade, unseen, unheard,
Are common lives-no shields, no words.

You will find places well concealed,
Rooms where fear is softly sealed.
But those who walk the open street
Have only earth beneath their feet.

There are nations forged in endless flame,
Hardened long before your name.
To threaten fire with raw-born iron
Is foolish hope, a fragile vision.

Each blow you strike, each wound you deal,
The sword remembers how you feel.
For violence, once it finds its way,
Returns in blood-it always stays.

So lay it down, the shining lie.
Beware, or to the dust you’ll lie.
In boiling youth, with reason gone,
Your own blade writes your final song.

To perish thus is not brave art,
Not revolution, not a start.
Those who choose the sword to live
Will meet the fate the sword must give.

Be ready-mind and breath and bone-
To build the land you call your own.
Do not let envy guide your sight,
Or feed your herds on another’s soil.

Walk forward first in quiet gain;
Let peace refine your strength from flame.
Seek friendship where the heights are wide;
With equals still, the test may bide.

But turn this path the other way,
And pride will choose your final day.
From the sword’s own head a searing ray
Will rise-and burn your name to clay.

So lay it down, the shining lie.
No borrowed blade will lift you high.
For those who live by sword and cry
Are sworn to meet how swords reply.

Not brave the end that rage designs,
Not birth of change, nor noble sign.
Where weapons cease, mercy begins-
And only there does peace walk in.



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